


Hanahaki.exe

by Graysongirl



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Abusive Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Character Study, Hanahaki Disease, Inspired by Twitter, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Roses, Soft Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:15:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29425872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graysongirl/pseuds/Graysongirl
Summary: Vox is all prepared for a lovely Valentine's day night in with his beau. He's even got the roses all ready.
Relationships: Alastor & Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 52





	Hanahaki.exe

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @frenchpa1n on twitter with their Hanahaki Vox trope I decided to write my Valentine's day fic around that theme. For those unaware, Hanahaki disease is a fictional disease in which the victims of unrequited love start coughing up rose petals until it either stops them breathing and kills them, or their intended returns their affections.

Hell didn’t practice many of Earth’s holidays other than Halloween, but when you put enough dead humans in the same city all grouped together you’re bound to get some traditions bleeding through from the surface. 

Vox had never really understood Valentine’s day when he was human. It all just seemed like a big corporate scam to make people spend their money. As someone who was a prime culprit for corporate scams that separated people from their hard earned cash he had always been determined to never get suckered into something like that himself. That was until he met Valentino. 

The moth creature was something else. He’d been the first demon Vox had encountered in Hell when he fell and it had all just spiralled from there. He’d been the one to push Val into buying the club that had made him so popular in the underworld and in turn the moth demon had proved to be a powerful ally when it had come to Vox making his mark on the media in Hell. They were a formidable pair, of that there wasn’t any doubt. If you didn’t count Lucifer and Lilith they were Hell’s number one power couple. 

So, forgive him for wanting to be just a little bit sappy when national spend obscene amounts of money on your partner day rolled around. 

He straightened out the red silk sheets on the bed and fluffed up the pillows, making sure there wasn’t a single crease in the spread before he started to sprinkle rose petals around the sheets. He was trying to make them into a heart shape, but they sort of slid around on the silky sheets and the effect was less than perfect when he looked down on it. Carefully, he started to bunch the petals up, neatening the edges of the shape until it was picture perfect. Valentino loved stuff like this, so he didn’t want it to look half done when he got home from the studio. 

Once he was sure it all looked neat and even he reached down into the ice bucket by the bed for the bottle of Champagne he’d bought. Lucifer’s Finest, the most expensive brand in Hell with only a certain number of bottles released every batch. He poured the bubbling liquid into two flutes and set them on either side of the bed, one for each of them. With a snap of his fingers a low pulse of music started to play over the hidden speakers he had installed in the bedroom, filling the room with the sounds of twinkling orchestral music. 

Perfect. 

He checked the time and straightened his bowtie in the mirror. He’d considered undressing and waiting for Val on the bed, but the moth really liked to take his time undressing him and getting in the mood usually, so he opted for leaving himself clothed for his lover to unwrap his ‘gift’ when he got here. He spritzed on some aftershave and gave himself another once over in the mirror. He looked killer, he knew that. 

The sound of the door opening came right on time and Vox felt like a school boy on prom night as he left the bedroom to go greet him. Nearly 70 years of this and Valentino could still give him butterflies thinking about him, the only person in Hell that could ever make him feel nervous. Not that he’d ever let the moth pimp _know_ that of course. 

“Hey, baby,” he purred, putting his arms around him and bobbing up on his toes to reach up and kiss him. “Good day at work?” 

“Yeah, it was great,” Val told him, giving him another peck on the lips as he untangled himself and glided past him. “Got a really good shoot with some new performers that I think are gonna be big, even got one of the schmucks to sign on with me so I feel all tingly and shit.” 

“Mm, bet you feel all nice and powerful then?” Vox hummed, following him as Valentino made his way into the kitchen that joined their mostly open plan apartment. “Why don’t you come into the bedroom and show me how strong you’re feeling?” 

“Maybe later, babe,” Val told him, rooting through the cupboards for something. “Gonna meet a few girls down at the club for some dancin’ later. I just swung by to get some stuff.” 

“It’s Valentine’s day,” Vox pointed out hopefully, hugging him from behind and kissing his neck. “You sure you want to go out dancing? We could have a night in, you know?” 

“Is it?” Val asked, finding what he was looking for in the cupboards- a packet of white powder- and stashing it in the pocket of his pants. “I didn’t know.” 

“Well, it is,” Vox told him, jostled out of the way as Val moved past him once more and started on a path to the bedroom. Vox went after him, knowing that when he saw the spread he’d laid out for them both that he’d change his mind. 

“I thought you said Valentine’s was just a load of trash?” Val pointed out, slipping his coat off and tossing it onto the bed. The rose petals bounced up with the breeze caused by the coat landing and scattered all over the floor, the heart shape broken in two by the force of it. 

“Well… yeah…” Vox admitted with a shrug, brushing some petals away that had landed by his feet. “Maybe it would be fun to buy into it once in a while though?” 

“You’re cute, I love that about you,” Val teased, leaning over to pat the side of his screen. “I’ll not be out late, we can watch a dumb movie or something when I get back. Pick something out for us and we’ll watch it when I get home.” He took a new jacket out of the closet and slipped it on. “Oh, hey, you got drinks,” he commented, spying the champagne flute on the bedside table and picking it up. He took a sip and grimaced, pressing the glass into Vox’s hand on the way past. “Tastes like imp piss, get a bottle of that beelzejuice stuff for us instead.” 

“Whatever you want, babe.” 

o0o

Vox stayed standing in the bedroom for a good long while after Val left, trying to process. Bubbles popped in the glass in his hand and, for lack of anything to do, he took a drink. 

Almost immediately, he started coughing. 

Val was right, it did taste like imp’s piss. He felt another rasping cough catch in his throat, the sour taste of the apple flavoured fizz seeming even worse now. Putting a hand up to his mouth he cleared his throat and blinked as a rose petal fell into his hand. Oh, just great, so now he was swallowing the damn things out of the glass? How had that even gotten in there? 

He scrunched up the half chewed petal in his hand and dropped it onto the floor with the rest of the flowers littering the carpet. He’d have to clean it all up later, but right now he really wasn’t in the mood. This was supposed to have been a nice night in, being stupid and romantic and his big dumb boyfriend had gone and ruined it. The music screeched to a stop over the speakers as he irritably left the room to throw the glass into the sink. It shattered against the plates that were stacked up in there. Fantastic, another thing to clean up later. 

His throat was still burning from the awful champagne so he got a glass of water from the sink, gingerly angling around the broken glass to turn the tap on. It felt like something was scratching the back of his throat. It was probably some joke on Lucifer’s part, convince people to pay top dollar for champagne with his name on it only for it to taste like sour apples to see which idiots were dumb enough to fall for it. It was the type of thing he’d probably do himself, so he had to respect it, still he could do without what felt like acid burns in his throat bothering him all night. 

Coughing again around the glass of water he forced himself to swallow and wiped the stray droplets from his screen. He knew he should go and get that liquor that Val had said he wanted, if he didn’t then he knew the moth wouldn’t shut up about it. 

“Asshole,” he muttered to himself, taking his jacket from the hook on the way past and taking the lift down to the main entrance. Gluttony was the best place in Hell for booze, even newly fallen demons knew that. All that over indulgence made it the perfect place to get fucked up. Lust had the dust and Greed had the best food, but there was nowhere better for a bit of liquid sin than Gluttony. 

He could have just called a car round to take him, but it was a nice enough night and he quite fancied the idea of a walk to clear his head. Not that there were many nice walks in Hell, but what passed for fresh air down here would probably do him good. It was scorching hot in the Lust district as he walked through on his way to Gluttony, the smell of sex and sweat thick in the air as sinners all over the district celebrated what they liked to think of as their national holiday here under the red sky. Ploughing on past the strip clubs and swingers bars he didn’t let himself stop to think about which one Val was in. 

Coughing gently again he loosened his collar a little and brushed a stray rose petal from his sleeve. Those little fuckers had gotten everywhere, they were worse than the glitter Val had falling off his clothes sometimes after being in the club all night. 

After a good long walk he stopped outside of one of the many off-licenses that the Gluttony District had and went in to purchase a bottle of the drink Val had asked for. His eyebrow raised at the cheap price tag, a little put out that he had wasted so much on a drink that had been sniffed at and rejected when he could have just bought this nasty looking concoction that was fizzing ominously in its bottle as the imp pushed it across the counter. 

He paid up and left the store swinging the bottle by his side. Gluttony didn’t seem to share the same passion for the season as the Lust dwellers did so the streets were mostly quiet. It was only when he started down an alleyway that he recognised as a shortcut back to the Lust district that he heard any sign of another person being around. 

It started out as just a small drop in the temperature, hardly worth noticing until you realised that it was only radiating from the areas that were draped in shadow. Then followed the crackling sound of static, like from a broken TV set or a rusty old radio. 

“If you wanted to catch me alone, Alastor, all you had to do was ask,” he drawled, coming to a halt and resting his shoulder against the wall, bathed in light from one of the fire escape signs from the rear of the liquor store overhead. 

“ _Are you lonesome, tonight? Do you miss me, tonight? Are you sorry we drifted apart?_ ” 

Vox snorted at the music as it crept out of the shadows. “Little after your time, isn’t it?” he scoffed. “Cut the crap and come out to play. I’ve got time.” 

“Merely enquiring after you, my friend,” Alastor grinned, materialising from the shadows and standing with his hands loosely clasped behind his back. He bobbed on his heels and glanced at the cheap bottle in the TV demon’s hand. “Drinking alone?” he asked pleasantly. “How very depressing for you. I’d been led to believe tonight was an evening that your kind spent desperately clawing for affection.” 

“Go fuck yourself,” Vox spat. “Or, better yet, go get fucked. It might loosen you up a bit. Maybe ask that tramp that lives at the hotel with you to-“ 

Whatever he was about to suggest a resident of the Happy Hotel did for Alastor, however, was lost in a stream of coughing. The bottle clattered out of his grip as he brought his hands up to cover the gash in his screen, spittle leaking through his fingers. 

“Take your time,” Alastor hummed. “Whenever you’re ready.” 

“Shut up!” Vox wheezed, his fingers closing around some sort of wet, sticky clump of something that he’d coughed up. He thought he’d thrown up at first until he found himself staring open mouthed at a warped clump of petals and thorns spilling out of his hand. “What the…” He threw the petals down onto the ground, swallowing back another rasping cough that once again robbed him of his words. 

“I see.” Alastor’s grin widened as he bent at the waist to inspect the pile of flowers that Vox had thrown at his feet. “Purple roses. My, my, you do have expensive tastes, don’t you?” He pinched one of the buds between his fingers, lifting it up to show Vox. 

“You should be careful who you show your heart to, Vox,” he told him, crushing the flower in a mass of shadows that devoured the bud right out of his hand. “If you don’t guard it well enough, your garden will start to overflow.” 

"What did you do to me?" Vox asked, his words low and hoarse. He put his hand to his throat, feeling it tighten as he spoke, dry and constricted. 

“Oh, no,” Alastor chucked darkly. “I would rather face Heaven than ever be responsible for inflicting this upon someone. You did this all yourself, my friend.” He whisked away the rest of the petals that lay in a pile between them both, chewed up by the shadow creature that trailed behind him. “You should tend to it. It is the day for romantic proposals after all, perhaps you’ll be surprised, though knowing the company you keep I dare say you know the answer already. You wouldn’t be in this position if you didn’t. Cheerio.”

Leaving the TV demon stunned in the alleyway, trying to puzzle out the riddle in his words, the strains of music lingered on the breeze. 

“ _Is your heart filled with pain? Shall I come back again? Tell me, dear, are you lonesome tonight?”_

o0o

Vox wasn’t sure how he got back to the penthouse, the entire journey passed in some sort of dazed blur. Stepping out of the elevator at the top floor he smothered yet another one of the petal laced coughs, the delicate flowers forcing their way through his teeth and into his hand despite his best efforts to hold them back. 

Pushing open the door to the apartment he made his way into his office space. It wasn’t as grand as his system beneath Broadcast Tower, but the penthouse was nearer and he needed answers fast. Groping around for a cable he clumsily pulled open his shirt, mindless of the buttons that tore away as he dragged it open to access the port on his chest. 

Every breath felt like torture. He wasn’t used to this. His systems were the cleanest, best run in Hell. Nothing ever made him feel less than fighting fit. He hadn’t felt anything even like illness since dying. The rasping coughs clawing their way up his throat and the dry papery feel of his tongue made him feel human again. Weak. 

It was just a virus. That was all it could be. Some clever little demon who’d fancied himself a hacker had done something to his system somehow. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t so jittery. Bringing up his hard drive on the screen in front of him he started to key in the commands for a sweep to check for any malware. Bugs would show up once in a while, it was to be expected when he linked himself to so many systems, but he had to admit this one was in another league. The most he’d ever had to deal with was a bit of lag or screen interference. 

“Come on, where are you, you little gremlin,” he murmured, his eyes racing over the screen as things flashed up on the monitor. Everything so far was coming up clean, better than clean in fact. By this system check’s reckoning he’d never been healthier. So what was going on? 

Clearly something was wrong with his computer here too. He’d need to go all the way to his complex beneath the Broadcast Tower and hook himself up to the superior system he had down there to run a full diagnostic. That would take hours, maybe all night if he did it thoroughly. He’d had to do a full shut down on himself once after a fight with Alastor when he was still finding his feet. The effects were incredibly unpleasant but sometimes needs must when it came to fixing a problem with his unique set up. 

He was about to eject the cable from the computer when something on the screen caught his attention. 

“Hanahaki.exe,” he read out loud. “What the fuck is that?” 

He tapped the screen over the icon that he was certain hadn’t been there when he’d first loaded everything up. Almost as soon as his finger tip brushed over the flower shaped icon the screen went black. He swore under his breath and started to type, cursing himself for being stupid enough to click on something that he didn’t know what it was. That was amateur. 

The screen came back up just as before, only this time the icons looked different somehow. His desktop was normally meticulously arranged with different icons he’d designed himself. A little vain, perhaps, but it was his brain so he had decided he should be allowed to make it look how he wanted to. Now the different coloured icons were gone. 

“They’re flowers…” he breathed. The file names were all the same, as were the drivers and all his applications but every single pixelated icon above the text was a digital image of a rose. 

A cough wracked his body once more, causing him to jerk so hard that the cable connecting him to the computer dislodged, closing down the window containing his internal workings and leaving him with his regular old desktop. He didn’t bother loading himself back up, he needed to get to his other computer at the Tower and fast. 

Drawing his phone out of his pocket he hit the speed dial for Val, already making his way out of the apartment and into the lift when the moth picked up. 

“What do you want?” Valentino sounded annoyed to be disturbed. Vox could hear pounding music in the background. 

“Val I need you to go to Broadcast Tower,” Vox told him, punching the button in the elevator for the ground floor. “I need you to-“ he broke of coughing, a flurry of petals raining down onto the floor of the cart. 

“Voxxy, I can’t hear you.” 

“I need-“ more petals erupted, the scratching feel of thorns sliding over his tongue as a whole flower, stem and all, tried to worm its way out. He grasped the flower, ripping it from his mouth and spitting a mouthful of blood out after it. “Val…” 

“You’re not making any sense, Vox,” Val was trying to shout over the music. “This better be important.” 

“Val I can’t…” Vox sank to his knees in the cart, the thud cushioned by the pillow of purple petals surrounding him. “Val I can’t breathe…”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry Valentine's day is meant to be nice aint it? Follow me on Twitter @graysongirl4 for more chapter sneaks and musings on how to ruin Vox's life some more.


End file.
